Unhooked(23)

A wild laugh escapes from my chest. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m still in shock from being discovered or from the absurdity of what the Captain’s just said, but his demand has shaken loose something wild and reckless inside me. “Honesty?” I huff, my voice cracking with a kind of hysterical disbelief. “You think I owe you honesty?”

The Captain’s voice is low, almost pleasant when he speaks. “Have I not fed you and protected you? Have any of mine raised a hand to harm you?” He shakes his head. “No. And that is by my order alone.” His voice has gone darker now, and the once-spacious quarters feel suddenly smaller, the air suddenly ten degrees warmer. “Are you not still on my ship? Are you not still alive despite your seeming incapacity for self-preservation?”

I suppose I should be intimidated. I probably should be shrinking back in the chair, begging for my life, but I am too crazed from being locked up, alone for days in a tiny cell, with nothing but my wild thoughts for company. I’m too angry about once again feeling cornered and helpless. “Am I the girl?” I ask instead.

“What?” Confusion lights his eyes at my unexpected change in topic. His face is so close to mine that I can see the fine down at his temples and the smattering of tiny freckles tossed across his sharp nose. For a moment, he seems almost vulnerable.

I swallow hard and ignore the fluttering in my stomach. I won’t be distracted. “You were talking about a girl,” I say. “You and Will, and— Wait.” I stop abruptly and scan the room. The strange blonde never left. “Where did she go?”

His mouth twitches as he backs away from me. The tension that crackled just moments before eases with every inch he puts between us. “Fiona has a way of popping in and out when you neither expect nor want her.”

“She just disappeared?” I ask, searching the room for some sign of her.

“She is Fey,” he drawls. “They have all manner of tricks at their disposal.”

When I meet the Captain’s bemused expression, I know I’ve gotten distracted. Again. “The girl you were discussing,” I say, focusing on what is really important here. “Were you talking about me?”

“It’s none of your concern, lass,” he says darkly. “But what I would very much like to discuss is how you came to be out of your quarters when I gave specific instructions that you remain within them.” His mouth goes tight, and his eyes narrow at me.

I don’t reply. There’s no sense in getting Owen in trouble.

“Ah, then. Not one for conversation? Then I think perhaps it’s far past the time for you to be returning to your quarters.”

There’s no way I’m going back to that coffin-size cabin without a fight, so I sit back in the worn velvet chair and cross my arms. “No, thanks.”

He blinks at me, and I can’t help but wonder if anyone has ever so blatantly disobeyed him before. I steady myself for the tirade that’s sure to come, but all at once, he’s laughing. And it’s not the mocking, derisive sound I’ve heard come out of him before. It’s a real laugh, one filled with the unexpected wonder of amusement.

When he’s finally caught his breath, he wipes at his eyes and then rearranges his face to the stiff, formal expression I’ve come to expect from him. “You never cease to surprise me, lass, but wee thing that you are, you should stay in the quarters I gave you,” he says, his voice growing more serious. “Where you’ll be safe.”

“Like you care what happens to me. You locked me in a room and left me there.”

“I also risked my life, and my crew’s life in turn, for you when I pulled you from the sea. That means you owe me a debt, and I don’t know that I’m ready to have you leaving or dying until it’s paid.” Propping his hands on the arms of the chair I’m sitting in, he brackets me with his arms. “I know you’re having trouble believing much of what’s happened to you, but even so, you’d do well to keep clear of the boys, lass. They may look like children, but in this world, there isn’t room for innocence. In this world, there are few who can even begin to comprehend what the loss of a life means. Most would kill you one day and not remember your existence the next.”

I swallow hard. “Are you one of them?”

He doesn’t answer right away. “I know well enough what it means to die, if that’s what you’re asking.”

It isn’t really, but an urgent thumping shakes the door before I can press him any further. The Captain ignores it at first, but when the thumping sounds again, his brows slam together and he stands, his features dark with irritation. Stalking across the room, he flings open the door and glares at the boy on the other side.

“John, I asked very specifically that I not be disturbed.” His words are calm, but they carry a clear threat.

“No time, Captain. Longboats off the starboard side.” The boy’s eyes are wide, and they dance with fear and, if I’m not mistaken, anticipation. “We’re being attacked.”

The Captain blinks, assimilating the news in a split second. “Then what in the bloody hell are you standing here for? Get your arse out there and at the ready!”

A brilliant, almost manic grin splits the boy’s face. “Aye, Captain.” And with a jaunty salute, he’s gone.

“And, you”—he pins me with a glare—“I’ve no time to get you back to the safety of your quarters, so sit here and don’t be making so much as a sound until I get back.”